Dear Jackson,

August 20, 2009

My past is my muse

Filed under: Before Jackson — Tags: , — aJOHNymous @ 3:02 pm

When we were 16, my best friend Adam and I stole two shopping carts from two separate stores because we thought it would be funny. I can’t remember how we came to this decision but I remember the act quite clearly. It was just one of those stupid things that you decide to do when you’re a young kid and bored with the usual Friday night shit. I don’t really remember if we had thought about we would do with the carts after we had them but I do remember just how much we fucking wanted them.

We stole the first cart from a grocery store parking lot. It was dark and Adam had an old GMC Jimmy type of car so we just pulled up next to it and I ran out and stuffed it into the back while we both cackled like little girls as he drove away. After we regained our composure and wiped away our tears we decided that one metal cart wasn’t enough so we went back to the strip mall and stole a plastic one via the same “grab and go” method. Since this one was slightly bigger, I had to struggle to make it fit into the back of the truck, but I eventually fit it in there right along with the first one. I jumped back into the truck and we headed back to Adam’s house.

30 minutes later we were staring at two shopping carts in the middle of his backyard and wondering about what to do next.

Adam: We could throw them into a lake.
John: True, but we need to have some fun with them first.
Adam: We could put my little brother in one and push him down a hill.
John: Yeah, but he might get hurt and your parents would probably kill us.
Adam: Yeah, you’re right.
John: Fuck it. Let’s just do it ourselves.
Adam: OK!

And so we did.

We walked up to the top of a hill, Adam got into the cart, and I stood on the back in order to keep the weight distributed evenly and down we went.

*****

It’s been nearly a decade since that day and I still look back on it fondly.

So what does all of this mean, anyway? Well, the answer to that is a complicated one. It’s one that I’m going to try to answer by writing this  because I haven’t even found it yet. It’s an answer that I’ve come to realize won’t come to me all at once, either.

I’ve titled this entry “My past is my muse” for a reason. I’ve come to realize that whenever I am actually able to sit down and write it’s because I’ve recently come off a serious bout of reminiscing about the glory days of childhood. The incident described above is only one piece of one day in the 1,825 days that I lived and breathed between the ages of 15 and 19.

Everyone has a catalyst for remembering his or her youth with such fondness. It could be a day at the beach, a visit with family, a party with friends, or anything really. But for me, I just have to think of two stolen shopping carts.

 

PS: If you decide to ever steal anything, take every precaution to ensure that you don’t get caught. Don’t steal. It’s illegal. Punishment(s) will ensue. Seriously. Don’t steal.

 

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